


Nargles Love Mushrooms

by sksdwrld



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol, F/M, M/M, Party, Psychotropic Drugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-10
Updated: 2013-02-10
Packaged: 2017-11-28 21:03:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/678862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sksdwrld/pseuds/sksdwrld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Malfoy throws an inter-house party when his parents go out of town.  He wasn't expecting the golden trio to show up.  Harry thought his presence at Malfoy's party might rile the unsuspecting host.  He wasn't anticipating drinking, drugs, or waking up in the arms of his arch-nemesis...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nargles Love Mushrooms

“Did you hear, Malfoy is hosting an all-house party?” Neville settled down at the Gryffindor table beside Ron.

Hermione looked up from the Daily Prophet and rolled her eyes. “I heard him say his parents were taking a holiday in France and leaving him behind to study for N.E.W.T.S. Of course he would do something juvenile, like throwing an unsupervised party,”

Harry and Ron exchanged glances. Hermione really knew how to suck the fun out of any occasion. “I think we should go,” Harry replied after a moment of careful consideration. Hermione, Ron, and Neville all looked to him, slack jawed.

“Are you serious, mate?” Ron asked, reaching for a tart.

“Well, yeah. I think it could be fun, you know….anything to get Malfoy riled up,” Harry grinned. “Can you see the look on his face when we stroll through the door? It’s sure to put him in a right foul mood for his own party. I’m sure he doubts any of us would dare to attend,” Harry stole the tart from under Ron’s long hovering hand. It had frozen while he was listening to Harry explain the circumstances.

Ron grinned and shoved at Harry. “You’re right!” Neville looked nervous and Hermione was shaking her head.

“Count me out,” Hermione said, snapping her paper back up in front of her face.

 

 

That weekend, dusk was just sinking over the Malfoy residence when a small group of Gryffindors arrived at the Malfoy property. There was a group of students clustered around the front door. As they got closer, Harry stood on tip-toe and strained to see what was going on. Crabbe and Goyle were flanking either side of the door, and turning away anyone who was younger than a six-year. There was a group of scantily clad young wizardesses hanging on Crabbe’s arm, pleading to be let in. When Ron caught a sight of them, he turned toward Hermione and smirked. “I think you’re a bit over-dressed for the occasion,”

She flushed and adjusted her blouse so that it was absolutely covering her chest. “You’re lucky I came with you at all, Ronald Weasley, and only to keep you out of trouble!”

Though the line consisted mostly of Slytherin and Ravenclaw students, there was a handful of other Gryffindors, and a few brave Hufflepuffs had shown as well. The closer they got to the door, the louder the thumping bass of house music became.

“Potter! Weasley! Granger!” Goyle puffed when they reached him.

“What’s the matter, aren’t our names on the guest list?” Hermione said coolly, eyes narrowing. Crabbe and Goyle exchanged glances, then shrugged.

“This ain’t your kind of social gathering, but by all means…” Crabbe replied, gesturing toward the open door with a wide sarcastic bow. As they strolled across the threshold, Harry couldn’t help but grin. “Draco’s gonna piss hisself…”

 

 

Inside the foyer, the music was too loud for conversation. Hermione clapped her hands over her ears and made a face, then smiled in thanks when Neville produced several pairs of earplugs with a flourish of his wand. Harry and Ron took them, and crammed them into their pockets. Wearing them would only have been fodder for Malfoy. They led their friends farther into the Malfoy home, following the stream of people who seemed to know where they were going.

They found themselves pushing through doors, into the dining room where a table had been laid out with fingerfoods and snacks, and Malfoy himself was manning a bar set up in the corner. Hermione dug her heels in and refused to go any closer, resigning herself to an opposite corner with a nervously smiling Neville. Harry strode up to the bar, dragging Ron along with him. When Malfoy looked to them, a dark look crossed his face, but was quickly replaced with a smug, calculated smile. “Potter. Weasel. Wasn’t expecting to see the two of you this evening. So glad you could make it to my little party. I think I have just the thing for you,” He reached down behind the bar and came back up with two frosted mugs, which he passed over with a smile. “Run along now,”

Harry and Ron exchanged glances, but moved to the side, then peered over the rims. Each cup was half-full of some liquid, and contained numerous floating cigarette butts. There was a twisted curl of lime rind in Harry’s, and what looked like a wad of mucous-y spit in Ron’s. Ron gagged and thrust his glass at Harry, then retreated to the corner with Hermione and Neville. Harry set his jaw and returned to Malfoy.

“Something wrong, Potter?” he asked with a satisfied smirk.

Harry set the mugs down on the bar-top and leaned over to speak lowly. “You know, Malfoy, I bet your mum and dad would be real disappointed with the hospitality you’ve shown your guests,”

He frowned, stabbing his finger into Harry’s chest. “You don’t know anything about Mother and Father. They’d be appalled that I let you into our home in the first place. I threw this party and invited all of the houses, because frankly, I got tired of hooking up with the same dreary Slytherin tail for the last four years or so…so I’ll tell you what, Potter,” Malfoy spit the last word. “You and your little friends behave yourselves, and I’ll let you stay to enjoy the party.” He broke eye contact and doled out two shot glasses, then tipped a decanter to both of them until they were full. “Are you man enough to handle a real gentleman’s drink?” He pushed one of the glasses nearer to Harry and took one himself, waiting to see what he would do. 

Harry lifted it, sniffed it, and lifted a brow. “Firewhiskey?”

“Aged to perfection,” Malfoy smiled and tossed the shot back expertly, then settled the glass down with a clink. Harry managed to awkwardly throw it down, gasping and eyes watering as the liquid burned its way down his throat and into his belly.

Malfoy chuckled and took the glass back. “That’s what I thought,”

 

 

As the party came into full swing, Malfoy abandoned his post as resident barkeep and mingled with his guests. Harry and the others kept themselves confined to the quieter corners of the room, chatting with a few other students they knew as they passed by. In a little over an hour, Malfoy has been seen entertaining a crowd of Slytherin and Ravenclaw boys, shooed away a gaggle of Slytherin girls who clamored to be seen on his arm, and snogged at least three girls from other houses.

“I never realized Malfoy was so popular,” Neville commented in awe.

“Or so pleasant,” Harry added. The three gaped at him. “I mean, to everyone but us…just look how happy he looks, must really be in his element,”

As if he knew he was being talked about, Malfoy looked up, and caught the four of them staring. He winked, then curled his arm around nearby Griffindor, Annelynn Harbinger and pulled her against his chest. She smiled at him dreamily, and he kissed her firmly on the mouth, squeezing her rounded behind with one hand and managing to balance his drink in the other. When he lifted his head, she tossed her long blond hair over one shoulder, and curled her arms around his waist. Then Draco winked again at Harry and his friends, and returned to his conversation.

“UGH!” Hermione exclaimed, rolling her eyes. “She dated Dean for awhile…I never really knew her that well, but….Malfoy, of all people…”

“Well, maybe he has the right idea anyway,” Ron tried to pull Hermione against him, but she fussed him away. “Ronald Weasley, don’t you even think about it!” 

They bickered a minute, and Harry leaned away from the wall that had been propping him up. He turned to Neville. “Care for a drink?”

“No, but I’ll come with you,” Neville cast a sidelong glance, then hurried to catch up with Harry’s long strides.

They were intercepted at the bar by Malfoy, who reached past them and snatched an unopened bottle of firewhiskey. His eyes were glossy, and his cheeks a rosy red color as he looked to them with a smirk. “Well, it’s obvious Granger came with the Weasel, di’you bring Longbottom as your date then?” He slurred only slightly.

“What?!?” Harry exclaimed. Neville looked sheepish, but remained quiet. “I can’t even qualify that with a response, Malfoy. That’s just…daft. Don’t be a berk,”

“A berk am I?” Malfoy was busy peeling the waxed seal away from the lid of the bottle. “Well, I only came to tell you that the real party is moving downstairs…of course you’re more than welcome to stick up here with this crowd, but I’m not the dancing sort,” He gestured into an adjoining room where a group of girls had moved the furniture aside and were moving their bodies to the endless beat of the music that streamed from room to room. Another, smaller group of boys had gathered to watch, and a few brave ones even joined in.

Malfoy swigged from the bottle, then held it out to Harry, who took it hesitantly, then followed suit. He struggled not to cough and splutter half of it over a watchful Malfoy. He clapped him on the back and wordlessly took the bottle back, then half-heartedly offered it to Neville, who refused with an adamant shake of his head. Draco shrugged, and turned away, pausing for a moment to call over his shoulder, “It’s a party boys. Live it up while you can,”

 

 

“That’s it! I am going home!” Hermione announced loudly, giving a long look to Ron beside her. “This is absolutely offensive, and if no one is going to stop it, I for one, am certainly NOT going to stand by and watch, let alone laugh…”

Ron rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on, Hermione, they’re not hurting them!” A group of Slytherin boys had rounded up a few of the Malfoy’s house-elves, and poured butterbeer after butterbeer down their throats before releasing them. They were drunkenly bumping into one another, and the furniture, giving a small exclamation of surprise each time. One bumped into a coffee table, then walked face-first into a potted plant before falling over rigidly onto it’s back, frayed towel flopping widely. There was a new explosion of laughter.

Hermione huffed. “Ronald, are you taking me home?”

Ron looked sideways at Harry. “You ready to go, then?”

“No, I’m staying. You can all go, if you like. I’ll be alright,” he responded, not meeting his friends stares.

“I can’t leave Harry alone here,” Ron said to Hermione.

Neville stepped up them, touching Hermione’s shoulder. “I’ll go with you,”

“Thank you, Neville,” She said, tucking her arm into his. “It’s nice to see someone else has sense in this place,”

After their friends elbowed their way through the crowd, and made their exits, Harry dragged Ron into the dining room, and reached behind the bar as Malfoy had done. He came up with half a bottle of Barron Brindle’s Spiced Rum. He splashed in into two glasses, and thrust one into Ron’s waiting hand. “C’mon, then, we’ve got to catch up,”

“Cheers mate,”

 

 

With warmed gullets, Harry and Ron made their way into the ominous “downstairs” previously mentioned by Malfoy. There were fewer people there, though the ranks were still made up significantly by Slytherin and Ravenclaw students. Harry waved to Seamus, who he hadn’t known was at the party at all until just now.

“Blimey, Harry, what is that rot you’re drinking?” Seamus wrinkled his nose and grabbed the bottle.

“’S’not so bad,” Harry said with a shrug.

“Here, take a slug o’this,” He offered up a personal flask instead.

“Jesus, Seamus, I didn’t realize you were a drinker,” Harry sniffed at the contents and tried to peer inside the container. “What is it?”

“Are you kiddin’ me, Harry? It’s scotch. Practically flows through my veins. Take a nip,” he pushed the flask toward Harry’s mouth and grinned. Harry felt a flash of heat burn through his sinuses and it made his eyes water again. “Awww, you’re just a baby,” Seamus grinned, throwing his arm around his friend and drawing him toward the largest cluster of people on one end of the room.

As they drew nearer, They could hear Malfoy in the midst of a joke. "What do you call a coughing quidditch commentator?" When no one had a response, Draco answered himself. "Wheeze-ley,". A few people groaned, but Ron stiffened. "How many Weasleys does it take to light up a wand?" Harry stuck his arm out across Ron's chest to stop him from moving forward. "Who needs a lighted wand with glow in the dark skin, and that hair?"

"Who'd want to look at them anyway?" called Pansy.

"The Weasley's have one functioning wand between all of them?" Blaise called. The room was erupting in laughter now, and Ron’s face was quickly turning the same shade as his hair.

"How many Slytherins does it take to light up a wand?" Harry interjected, propping his fingers together and looking around. Several slytherins in the area turned toward him with manacing looks on their faces, a few of them seemed surprised to see him at all.

"Careful, Potter, you're not in your element," Malfoy warned with a dark look. "Erm," he gave a nervous sort of laugh. "Just one. To blackmail a hufflepuff,". 

A few people rolled their eyes and Malfoy smirked. “You told it wrong. It’s “Why light a wand when I could just set your robes on fire?” With that, he withdrew a cigarette and a matchbook from his pocket. After he puffed the end into a warm red glow, he let the match fall to the floor at Harry’s feet. Harry jumped back, but the match had blown itself out on it’s descent. More snickers were heard. 

“How many Malfoy’s does it take to light a wand? Two. One to buy an automatically lighting wand, and one to brag about it.” Harry interjected before Ron could stop stammering long enough to get a word in.

“Why did Weasley cross the road?” Malfoy sneered. “Someone tossed a knut!”

Ron drew his wand, and immediately, he and Harry were at the ends of ten pointed Slytherin wands. Harry reached up slowly, and drew Ron’s arms to his sides, then tugged the wand from his hand, and tucked it into Ron’s back pocket. “There, there. No harm, no foul.” He smiled sheepishly and held up his hands. “Did anyone hear the one about the Wizard, the troll, and the vampire?“ In rapid fire succession, Harry told all of the off-color jokes he could think of. Soon, he had everyone rolling, and even Malfoy was doubled over and clutching his stomach. 

“Alright, enough, enough, I’m going to wet myself!” Seamus grinned. “Harry, I didn’t know you knew so many jokes, you never let on,”

“Yeah, well,” he replied with a smile, relishing the attention.

 

 

“We should play ‘spin the bottle’,” Pansy announced with a smile. “We haven’t done that in awhile,”

A few sideways glances were exchanged, and then universal shrugs.

“What is this, middle school?” Ron hissed as he settled down beside Harry in a growing circle.

Harry shrugged. “Dunno, everyone else seems to think it’s a good idea,”

Draco stepped over Harry and Ron’s shoulders, and planted an empty bottle in the middle of the floor. He sat down directly opposite of Harry, between Pansy and Blaise. “Alright Pansy, you start then,”

She gave a short flick of her wand and set the bottle spinning. It went around and around, slowing past a boy from the Ravenclaw house and a brave girl from Hufflepuff before stopping on Ron. He barely had time to blush or gulp before Pansy groaned loudly and ambled across the middle of the circle. Ron scrambled backward instinctually, and everyone laughed, except for Pansy who seized him and planted a wet kiss on his mouth. Ron’s arms and legs flailed comically, and when she retreated, they were both red in the face.

“This is going to be better than I thought,” Harry whispered to Ron. 

“Shut up!”

And so it went around, Crabbe kissed Annelynn Harbinger, and Goyle kissed the Hufflepuff girl. The ravenclaw boy snogged Daphne Greengrass, and the two of them fell out of the circle and began rolling on the floor together. Everyone stopped to watch with mild interest for a moment or two. While the Hufflepuff girl was spinning, Ron excused himself to the loo.

And then it was Harry’s turn. He flicked his wand, and the bottle began spinning, and suddenly, he had a flashback to the sorting hat. There was a loud cheer and Harry looked to see the bottle pointed straight at Blaise Zabini.

“Fuck,” Zabini swore, and took a swig from the bottle Draco passed him. Harry paled and sat rooted to his seat. Malfoy smirked widely.

“Th-that’s on Mandy, isn’t it?” He said weakly, in reference to the Ravenclaw seated beside Blaise.

“What’s the matter, Potter?” Malfoy taunted. “Not man enough to kiss another man and not have it mean anything? Or do you want to kiss him, but you’re too afraid we’ll all know you’re just another faggot?”

Harry felt himself blush as he climbed to his feet. He crossed the circle, and bent to give Zambini a peck on the lips so dry and fast, it could barely be considered a kiss. The room roared and Harry settled back into his spot as red-faced as any other participant.

Ron settled down next to Harry just as Mandy Brocklehurst began her spin. “What did I miss?”

“Other than your turn, you bloody tosser, nothing,” Harry mumbled, ears still pink.

“Well who’d you kiss?” he whispered. Another cheer went up when Mandy’s bottle came nearly full circle and pointed to Blaise again. He looked relieved this time, and after a long moment, tumbled her out of the circle to continue in another room.

“Round one, and we lost four already?” Malfoy smirked, and sent the bottle whirling. There was a second round of cheering and elbowing and jeering when the bottle landed on Harry. 

This time the brown-haired boy swore. “Fuck!”

“I’ll show you how it’s done, Potter,” Malfoy said, rising to his feet quite gracefully for someone who’d been drinking all evening. He crossed the circle quickly, and seized Harry by the front of his shirt, lifting him off the floor ever so slightly. It was a hard, furious kiss, and Draco forced Harry’s mouth open, stabbing him with his tongue. There was a round of hoots and hollers, and Ron grimaced and turned away. “You can let go of me now, Potter,” Malfoy smirked and Harry realized he was somehow clutching Malfoy’s shoulders.

“Er, right….” He let go of him quickly, and scrambled backward. Pansy elbowed Draco when he returned to his place. Harry scrubbed his mouth with the back of his hand, but he could still taste the peppery bite of the firewhiskey and Malfoy’s mouth. “Gimmie that rum,” he gestured at Ron, and took several long swallows while Draco grinned evilly. 

To Harry’s credit, he didn’t flee like Ron had, and after several more uneventful rounds in which Harry snogged a few girls, the game took a dive toward the boring end.

“Oy!” Ron suddenly elbowed Harry in the ribs. 

Harry clutched his side in pain and shot a dirty look at his best friend. “What is it, Ron?”. Ron gestured toward the top of the stairs, where a dreamy looking Luna Lovegood was descending. Her shirt was of a thin, nearly see through, white fabric and the rosy outline of her nipples jutted through. She wore knee high leather boots, and a short black shirt. Her hair was messy, and she wore dark make-up around her eyes and bright red lipstick.

“Holy Mother, is that Luna?!? I don’t ever remember her like that!”

Harry was about to give a sarcastic response, when the room quieted down. It seemed all eyes were on Luna, and with good reason. 

“For Fuck’s sake, you’re late,” Draco said, striding toward her. “Really late,”

“I didn’t realize,” she said softly, looking over the crowd of people before her.

Draco took her by the hand and pulled her down into the room. “Well, do you have it?”

“The newest edition of The Quibbler?” She took a folded paper from under her arm and made to hand it to Malfoy, who only scowled. With that, she crossed to the seating area, perched herself on the arm of a chair (Much to the chagrin of Pansy, who was seated in the chair itself), and dumped the contents of her purse on the table. Small wrapped bundles tumbled out, along with wads of tissue, and oddly colored bits of paper and plastic. She sorted these aside, then sat back with a smirk. “This is what you wanted, yes?”

Malfoy’s eyes traveled over the packages and he quirked a brow. “Well, what the bloody hell is all this?”

“Oh!” She jumped up and unwrapped a bundle, pressing the contents into Malfoy’s hand. “I wrap them so the Nargle’s wouldn’t find them. Nargle’s just love mushrooms,”

Malfoy smirked, and handed the small pile of dried fungus in his hand to Crabbe and Goyle, then reached for a handful of little bundles. He tossed them out to those around him.

“Eat up, Potter,” Malfoy grinned, unwrapping his own package with a look of delight.

“It looks horrid!” exclaimed Ron as he peered at the shriveled brown bits in Harry’s hand.

“They taste horrid,” Seamus agreed, chewing. Then he grabbed the rum from Ron’s hand and took a long swig. “You two should split them, if you’ve never had them before,”

“Bleedin’ Christ, Seamus!” Harry said. “Where have I been that I missed out on all the parties?”

Seamus shrugged. “You’re such an upstanding citizen, I guess no one ever thought to invite you before,”

Malfoy snorted and leaned in to the conversation. “More likely that behind all your fame and bluster, you’re a terrible bore…aren’t you going to try them at least?”

“I don’t know,” Harry replied, looking down into his hand. “What’s it do to you?”

“Makes you feel bloody good,” Malfoy sneered. “I guess I always thought the Gryffindor mascot was a lion, but it was just a chicken all along,”

Ron reached out and palmed half of the diced mushroom pieces, and crammed them in his mouth all at once. He grimaced at their rubbery texture and dirty taste, and took the nearly empty bottle back from Seamus when it was offered.

“In for a penny, in for a pound,” Harry mumbled to himself. “Down the hatch,”

 

 

The walls were pulsing slowly, and when Harry took off his glasses to rub his eyes, he felt as if a thousand tiny fingers caressed his face. He replaced his specs, and turned to Ron, who was staring at Luna and couldn’t tear his eyes away.

“Harry!” He said in a staged whisper that everyone else could hear. “Look at them! The nipples, they’re HUGE! I want to chew on them,”

Harry looked at Ron like he had four heads….and suddenly he did have four heads. Then they merged back together into one red-haired head, but the nose had some semblance of a penis. He started to giggle and fell over on his back. The ceiling swirled black and small starburst flashes were popping off. Suddenly, Harry felt ill. He scrambled to his feet with the world in slow motion, and he had to twist his body to avoid the hands that reached toward him from that wall. Trying to contain a scream of horror, his feet pounded up the stairs, and he slammed the door at the top.

The hallway leading to the loo was lined with snogging couples, and even a few boys with their trousers pooled about their ankles, and girls kneeling in front of them. To Harry, some of their faces were grayish, heavily veined, and they looked undead. Someone snarled at him and he did an about face, bolting out the front door. The fresh air hit him like a wall, and he could taste the pollen, and the sappy sweet humidity. He bent suddenly, and retched. The smell was acrid, and the wet splashing sound it made was like an ocean wave crashing over his head. He threw up again, and could only hope that he cleared his shoes this time. Then Harry wandered a few paces away and let himself fall onto his back.

The red-orange glow of a cigarette end bloomed several feet away, then bounced nearer. “For fuck’s sake Potter,” the glow said. “You trashed the hell out of my mother’s flowers,”.

“S-sorry, Malfoy,” he said, closing his eyes. “I’m feeling a bit peaky,” 

A body dropped down beside Harry. “Sit up, head between your knees,”

Harry felt himself jerked into the position. In the space between his knees, a quidditch match was going on. He watched silently for a bit, but couldn’t help cheering when the quaffle soared through a ring on the Troll’s side. There was a chuckle beside him.“Christ, Potter, what’s going on down there?”

Harry jerked slightly. He’d forgotton Malfoy was there. “Quidditch,”

“Lemme see,” A blond head suddenly bumped his. Harry moved slightly to allow the blond access to the stadium between his legs. “There’s nothing there,”

Harry was slightly disappointed. “Aren’t you seeing things too?”

There was a rustle, and a fumble, then the sound of a lighting match, followed by the smell of smoke. “Well, yeah. Of course. Pretty colors. Cheshire cats. Harry Potter making an arse of himself in my front lawn,”

“I’m making an arse of myself?” Harry asked incredulously as he looked up.

“Yeah, of course. Everyone makes an arse of themselves at a party. It’s kind of the point….if it makes you feel any better,” Malfoy took a long drag on the cigarette. “I’m about to make an arse of myself too,” He exhaled and flicked the cigarette away.

“You are?” Harry was confused.

“Yep,”

Long cool fingers slide over Harry’s face, pulling it closer, and then he felt warm lips on his. The spice of firewhiskey, and a hint of ash. When he closed his eyes, he could see their tongues caressing eachother. When he thought about what this meant, he scrambled backward, breaking away from Draco. “Fuck. Don’t,”

There was disappointment in his voice. “You don’t want me to?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know,” Harry dragged his hands over his face. “I should go,”

“No you shouldn’t,” Another flare of a match, another cigarette. Then a hand grabbed Harry’s arm, pulling him up. “You’re going to splinch yourself if you try to apparate now…hell you’re going to splinch the both of us together and that will be a right bloody mess,”

Draco dragged Harry inside and up the staircase, which was lined with photographs covered with black draped fabric. Some of the portraits were quiet, and others were threatening. “I know what you’re doing out there, don’t think we can’t hear you!”

“Where are we going?” Harry said, noticing that the top floor of the manor was seemingly empty.

Malfoy pushed him through a door, then settled him down on top of the toilet. The floor tiles lifted and depressed in random patterns. “Here,” he said after a minute, pushing something into his hand. 

Harry looked down at the greenish liquid and grimaced. “I don’t think I ought to drink anything else,”

“It’s mouthwash, you git,”

Harry stood, and rinsed his mouth, bracing himself over the sink, then spat. The world was pulsing colors and shapes all around him. Draco handed him a cool face cloth.

“Thanks,” Harry said, scrubbing his face. “I didn’t think you knew how to do any of this by yourself,”

“Don’t be a berk, Harry,” Malfoy said crossly. 

“You called me ‘Harry’,” He said, lowering the cloth.

“Observant, aren’t we?” Malfoy had opened the door, but was now fingering the sheers between the drapes, letting the fabric run over the back of his hand. Harry became entranced for a moment. Then he suddenly realized he’d left Ron alone in the basement with a would-be pack of wolves, if they weren’t all snakes….

He dashed up and out of the room, leaping over a large snail with a red shell. When he got to the staircase, it was tremoring and flickering. He stared at the handrail a long moment, then planted both hands firmly. The carpet runner seemed a boggy mess, so he carefully picked his way down, planting his feet only on the solid wood left uncovered by swamp water.

“Harry, are you alright? I’ve been looking for you,” Seamus grabbed him by the upper arms and whirled him about. Harry searched his face. Seamus was still talking, but all he could hear was a loud thrumming buzz, like a million locusts beating their wings together at once. Then, one by one his teeth started falling out, and bouncing off the floor.

“God, Seamus, Fuck!” Harry could only think of getting back into the basement. He jerked away from his fellow Gryffindor as fast as he could. In his haste, he forgot to avoid the boggy parts of the basement stairs, and halfway down, his foot got stuck. When he pulled it out, he lost his balance, and slid the last 1/3 of the way down on his keister and back. He laid there a long time, at the base of the stairs, watching the colors change, and thinking about how he’d never know if he’d given himself a concussion or not. He could hear distant laughter, howling, shrieking, sobbing laughter. And then he remembered, he’d come to look for Ron.

“Ron!?” He said loudly, sitting up and feeling his head and torso for broken bits. Everything seemed intact. “Ron?!” He screened the room and didn’t see him there, though he realized that those left were staring at him. “Have you seen Ron?” He crossed to them and Pansy scowled. 

“Fuck, Potter, Shut up. Things were just getting nice before you showed up,”

He backpedaled away from her. “Ron?!?” Then he heard a girlish giggle, and simultaneously spied a small storage closet. When he jerked the door open, Ron and Luna were inside, sitting knee to knee. Ron had Luna’s shirt tied around his head and his face was between her breasts. “RON?”

Ron’s head came up Rather quickly and a grin the size of the grand canyon was on his face. “Harry! Did you come to hide from the Nargles too?”

“Nargles? No!” Harry ruffled his hair. Why had he come again?

“Well did you come for the disco then? Did y’know Malfoy has a fantastical disco in his basement?” Ron looked upward in awe, but all Harry saw were garment bags. Loads of garment bags, crawling with spiders.

“Gyahhhhh!” He whipped his wand out of his pocket and pointed it at the bags.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Luna tugged the wand out of his hand. “No magic while you’re tripping, yeah Harry?” 

He looked blankly at his empty hand.

“Are you in or out then?” She asked, her hand on the knob of the door, smiling suggestively.

“God, out,” The thought of cohabiting a closet with Ron and Luna made him want to throw up all over again.

“That’s too bad,” She sighed, swinging the door shut. “See you later, Harry,”

 

 

Harry settled himself down on the floor in the corner, by himself. Interaction with other people at this point in the evening was proving far too stressful. Better to just lay by himself and watch the ceiling drip blue paint all over him. Time passed. He couldn’t be sure if it was minutes or days. He felt a body lay down beside him.

“What color is it?”

“Blue,”

“Yeah,”

Cool fingers entwined with his. It was nice. Comforting. He rolled over and put his head on Malfoy’s chest. Malfoy wrapped his arms around him and they drifted. When Draco kissed him, it was like falling upwards. It was all tongue, and nipping lips, and groping hands. Harry was fighting racing thoughts.

“ I can’t….I can’t…”

“Harry, you’re alright. Just coming down is all,”

“Going where?”

“It’s wearing off,”

“Thank Merlin,”

“Thank Merlin?” Draco grumbled. “This is your last chance, Potter,”

“Last chance for what?” He said dumbly.

“For messing around with me and being able to blame it on the drugs afterward,”

“Oh,” For all the night’s event’s, Harry was struck with the sudden realization that Draco had been pursuing him the entire while. He chewed his lip in thought.

“I’ve never been turned down, you know… for fuck’s sake, Potter, don’t you want to?” Draco seemed incredulous at the thought that someone might not be interested in him.

Harry seemed to consider this. “Well, yeah, I guess, but-“

“No ‘buts’, Potter. You’re in the garden of Eden right now, and everyone is expecting you to sin. You can blame your regrets on your chemical indiscretions, but you gotta get your jollies off when you can, get me?”

He still looked dubious. Malfoy lifted his hips with an effort, supporting Harry’s weight and his own, to pull something out of his back pocket. It was a flask, similar to Seamus’ only in that it was a personal container for storing alcohol. This flask had a gilded top, the family crest, and a monogram pressed into it. Draco unscrewed the top and took a nip, then pressed the bottle into Harry’s hand. “Liquid courage,” he answered before his half-hearted frenemy could ask. 

If Harry had one true weakness, it was peer pressure. He searched Malfoy’s face a moment, then resigned himself, and finished off what was left in the flask. Then he tilted his face upward and let himself taste the spiciness of Malfoy’s mouth.

 

“Oy, Harry?!?!” The shrill sound of Ron’s exclamation seemed to pierce his very brain. He peeked his eyes open and was amazed a moment when the world swam into immediate focus. Then he realized he still had his glasses on, although they were crooked and smushed painfully into the bridge of his nose. Ron’s face was stained with red lipstick smears and his hair was pushed up at odd angles all over.

“Go ‘way,” Harry mumbled, closing his eyes and scooting slightly to find a more comfortable position. An arm tightened around his waist, and he could feel the body next to him shifting, pulling closer. Ron stood gaping, and suddenly the body behind Harry stiffened.

“Fuck,” it swore lowly. The arm around Harry’s waist withdrew, then shoved at his shoulder to push him away.

“Criminey!” Harry pushed himself to a seated position and rubbed his eyes behind his spectacles, then peered around. Ron was standing open-mouthed above him, and beside him was a red-faced Malfoy struggling to pull all of his clothes on, as quickly as he could. He looked down at himself, assessed his own nakedness, and a toothy red bite mark on his chest. His shoulders slumped, and he began to fumble for his own clothes.

Ron bent and handed them to him hastily, then mumbled something about meeting Harry outside.

Malfoy wouldn’t meet Harry’s gaze, and Harry was glad for that. “Don’t you dare-“ he started to warn as Harry reached the bottom of the staires.

“I won’t,” He interrupted just before running up them.

The bang of the door left Draco alone with the remnants of his party.

 

“Harry! What happened last night?” Ron asked in awe when Harry made it into the bright sunlight of the early morning.

“Looks like you and Luna made a go if it, hiding from the Nargles,” Harry observed crassly. 

“Yeah, but…Malfoy? You’ve got stains all over your shirt, Harry,” Ron pointed out. He looked down and saw his shirt smeared with crusty white, as if they had used it to mop up a mess. 

His face darkened considerably. “Yeah, well, you’ve got stains all over your face,”

Ron had to perform the scourigify spell for them both, because Harry couldn’t find his wand, and said he’d be damned if he was going to go back into the house at this point, one walk of shame was enough. They swore each other to secrecy, and apparrated back to Hogsmeade so they could sneak back into Hogwarts through the secret tunnel inside of Honeydukes.

 

Monday morning, the school was abuzz with rumors of the party in the Malfoy manor. The attendees tried to go about their business as usual. Professor Snape was waiting outside of his classroom and hooked Malfoy’s arm before he could pass through.

“A word, Draco?” He escorted him around the corner and pulled a photograph from the inner pocket of his robes. He glanced at it a long moment, then sneered, “I thought by now you would have learned from your father…it is always best to keep our indiscretions behind closed doors,” With that, he pressed the photo into Draco’s hand and moved back toward his classroom. “Lord only knows how many of those are in circulation,”

Draco looked down to see himself and Potter, shirtless, face to face with their arms around each other, and a small smile on his own face. His hand clenched and crumpled the picture into a tight ball in the palm of his hand. Just then, Pansy happened past and caught Draco’s eye, giving him a wide smile. There was a dark sparkle in her eyes.


End file.
